


Met Online

by rinskiroo



Series: SWWA February Ficlet Challenge 2019 [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, hint of Damerey, technology is weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 06:43:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17782538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinskiroo/pseuds/rinskiroo
Summary: The Resistance takes refuge on Yavin after Crait.  Poe finds something strange and a conversation he never thought he'd get.





	Met Online

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be "met online AU" which??? how do you make it work with a mother and son??? Well, Dee had an idea and I ran with it. Thank you. <3

“I’ve always wanted to go to Yavin,” Rey says as she pulls the lever to drop them out of hyperspace.  “It’s an important place,” she qualifies when Poe doesn’t respond. Like he doesn’t know.

Poe smacks his lips because his mouth is dry.  Not from lack of drink--they cleared out the booze Plutt was hiding on the ship in celebration of their escape from Crait.  But now that he thinks about it, maybe that is the reason it feels like his mouth is full of cotton, and not because he’s about to ask his father for yet another favor.

“My dad and I, we didn’t leave on the best of terms,” he tells her because she won’t stop staring at him.  It was his idea to come here, afterall.

“Leia said he was happy to help.”

“No,” Poe corrects with a derisive laugh, “he said he was  _ willing _ to help.  Very different from happy.”

“Why wouldn’t he want to help?”

“He already fought this war.  And he sure as hell didn’t want me to fight it.”

“He cares about you,” she says after a quiet moment.

Poe sighs, suddenly feeling guilty.  He’d inadvertently overheard Rey telling Finn the horrible things Kylo Ren had said to her, along with the awful truths she’d discovered about her own parents.  He has no right to complain about his father’s disapproval to her. But it’s not his father’s discontent that has him nervous, it’s the fear that somehow the First Order could still be tracking them.  Poe doesn’t think he’ll be able to live with leading them right to his own doorstep.

Kes Dameron welcomes them, and not even grudgingly.  He hugs his son fiercely, as well as Leia. It’s been a long time, they tell each other.  He smiles as he shakes hands with Finn and Rey, like he can tell how important they are to Poe.  They set up Rose and the other injured inside the house to make them comfortable; everyone else bunks on cots set up in the hangar.  Crates of farm equipment and other things collected over the thirty years the Damerons have been here are stacked up outside the hangar, along with an A-Wing with a faded red stripe.

“I didn’t have the chance to cover all that stuff up,” his father says, waving towards the clutter in his yard.  “It’ll be bad if it rains.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Finn offers, and takes a few other hands to finish what Poe’s father had started.  It’s the least they can do, they insist.

“I’m sorry, dad,” Poe says.  “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“I’m just glad you’re not dead.”  He gives his son another tight hug.  He sniffles and rubs at his face as he tries to fend off any overwhelming emotion.  “Your people can bunk in the hangar. I’ve set up some comm equipment in the tool shed.  It’s not much, just stuff your mom used to fiddle with. Figured you could put it to use.”

 

Everything’s caked in dust and Poe thoroughly cleans out the shed before he even chances turning any of the equipment on.  He thought he’d have BB-8’s help, but Rey’s taken him to go work on the  _ Falcon _ .  He can’t decide if he likes it--this new arrangement where he’s sharing custody of his droid with Rey.  The little guy doesn’t have a control chip so it’s his choice who he wants to hang out with. Poe doesn’t blame him for picking Rey.  Poe smirks to himself and shakes his head, he’d pick Rey, too.

It’s late once he’s finally sorted and cleaned all the old equipment.  He paused briefly for a quick bite to eat and a rundown on the Resistance’s current situation.  Nothing had changed except now everyone was settled in. Leia would have tasks for them tomorrow--steps towards trying to rebuild.

“Nah, I think I got it buddy,” Poe tells BB-8 when the droid asks if he still needs help.  “You go ahead and recharge.”

“I could hep, if you need,” Rey offers.  “I don’t need to recharge.”

“Sure you do,” he says with a grin.  He’d never say it out right because it would be rude, but she looks the worst out of any of them.  Bone-tired and running on fumes--Poe’s not sure she’s slept since they left Crait, but then, he can’t remember if he has yet either.

She frowns at him and he wonders if maybe he should have just not said anything at all.

He’s still thinking about that frown as he flips the switches and starts up the cobbled together computer systems.

>>> Hello, Poe.

Poe blinks at the characters on the screen.  “Hi,” he says, but there is no response. He digs around in a box of parts until he finds a headset, plugs it in, and puts it on.

“Hello,” he says again, but still there’s nothing.  “Must be something buggy with the audio interface.” He tries to think of a reason that the old system would be calling him by name.  He supposes it’s possible some of the interface is from when he was a kid--some old learning software still holding onto his data. It’s not exactly what he needs right now.

He goes through the system information and keys it up for a full reboot.

>>> Please don’t do that, Poe.  I want to stay with you.

Another set of confused blinks.  “Creepy.” He double checks the connections--it still isn’t linked up to the satellite.  It’s a closed system. This message is not a transmission from afar or someone trying to screw with him.

His fingers tap on the keys.

Hello. <<<

>>> Hello, Poe.  How are you today?

Tired. <<<

He responds honestly.

>>> Try to get some rest tonight.  How was school?

Poe leans forward and rubs his hand through the beard he’s been neglecting.  It  _ has _ to be some sort of educational software from when he was a kid, but he can’t remember ever using it before.  But then, that was a long time ago. He decides to humor it and see where it takes him.

Good.  Zyras and I played ball at recess, but I did poorly in Shyriiwook. <<<

>>> I can help you with Shyriiwook, if you like?

Poe nods to himself.  Definitely a program designed for helping kids with school.  He feels better about just wiping the whole thing.

No. <<<

He’s almost back to the system menu, ready to delete again.

>>> Did you go flying today?

It gives him pause and he thinks about the question.  It actually feels like forever since he’s been at the controls of something.  In truth, it’s probably only been a day, maybe two at the most. The past week has blended together into a mush of trauma and exhaustion.

No. <<<

>>> Did you get in trouble?  It’s hard on your father, too.  I know he’s doing the best he can.

Poe jerks back from the console and slaps the power button.  The entire thing powers down with a whir and Poe gets to his feet, pacing until the headset cord yanks and he tears it off in agitation and throws it at the monitor.  He takes several steps back and forth, back and forth. With his hands on his hips, he stares down the pile of equipment. He’s heard the phrase about feeling like someone’s walked over your grave before, but he’s never really felt it.  It’s creeping and crawling all over his skin and he can’t seem to shake it. But damned if he doesn’t want to figure out what the hell is going on.

He flips the console back on.

>>> Hello, Poe.

What are you? <<<

>>> RESET SEQUENCE <<<

>>> Hello, Poe.

“So I can’t ask you any questions, huh?” he says, thinking out loud.

I need help flying. <<<

>>> What is it you need help with?

Weapons. <<<

>>> You know the weapons on the A-Wing are disabled.  Don’t be silly.

I loaded the torpedo tubes. <<<

>>> RESET SEQUENCE <<<

>>> Hello, Poe.

“You reboot whenever there’s a question a kid shouldn’t be asking, is that right?  What kind of cheap VI did dad install?” He sighs, and again, tries to delete the program.

>>> Please don’t do that, Poe.  I want to stay with you.

Poe’s not sure why, but he can’t key in the final sequence.  That creepy feeling crawls all over him and he stands quickly up out of the chair again and tries to shake it off.  Well, if he can’t do it, he’ll just find someone else who can.

 

“Come on, buddy, which button is the--ow!”  Poe tries to bite back the yelp as he knocks his leg into a crate propped up next to the droid charging station.

The lights flicker on around him and he sighs at the voice calling his name: “Poe?  What are you still doing up?”

“I need Beebee-ate’s help with something,” he tells Rey.

“He’s had a pretty rough day.  He nearly fried all his boards in that stunt in the X-Wing, and then being stuck full of those coins on Canto Bight weren’t very good for his conductive bits.  It’s going to take him longer than usual to charge, I’m afraid. Your father offered to take me to the junkyards and see if we can’t scrounge up some useful parts.”

Poe frowns, suddenly worried for his little friend.  “Is he going to be okay?” he asks as he looks concerned at the orange and white droid with a few slowly blinking yellow lights.

“Of course!  He just needs a rest.  We all do.”

With a sigh, he turns away from the droid.  “I’m sorry I woke you,” he tells Rey, and then tries to slip past her.

“You’re not going to rest, are you, Poe?”

He looks at her, but doesn’t answer.  He imagines that’s all the answer she needs.

“Maybe I can help?”

“It’s fine,” he says, not wanting to be the reason she’ll also continue to be exhausted.  “You can go back to bed. Sorry, again.”

“I’m not going back to bed unless you are, too,” she says, rather definiantly and it surprises him.  Not that he thinks her meek, or anything like that, but she’s been so calm and accommodating, despite what they’ve all been through.  A blush spreads quickly across her cheeks as she realizes a secondary meaning of her words before he does. Another surprise, or maybe he is just that tired.  “I mean--it won’t do us any good to have you walking around like a corpse. We’ll get it done faster with the two of us.”

She’s not wrong, he thinks, but he wonders if maybe his tired mind is making a mountain out of an anthill.  It’s not a huge problem, it’s just a little weird. A lot weird. And they actually do need a way to contact their scouts and allies that’s not a known Resistance signal.  “You know your way around a finicky computers?”

Rey grins at him and her eyes glance around at the ship they’re standing in--the very definition of a finicky system.  “A bit.”

 

Poe’s staring at Rey who’s staring at the computer.  She’s been troubleshooting it, much the same way that Poe had.  She asks it questions and anything deviating from what a kid would ask results in a restart.  “It’s not a true AI like a droid,” she says. Though he’s figured that much out, he lets her talk through the problem.  “It’s sort of a choose-your-own-adventure virtual intelligence. You feed it information and the algorithm regurgitates that information based on keywords.  It doesn’t learn. It’s limited to the data it was programmed with.”

“I guessed it was something like that, but why is it so weird and creepy?  It doesn’t seem like a mass market program you’d download off the HoloNet.”

“No, but…”  Rey crouches down at the base of the console and starts tearing apart all the pieces he’s carefully constructed.  “There really should be a visual and audio component. Are you sure you put this back together right?”

“Uh--”  Poe flinches back as something sparks.  “I’m not completely--” There’s a crack and a thunk from where Rey is half buried inside the console and he really doesn’t think it should be making those sorts of noises.  “--inept.”

“Who’s that?” Rey asks as she emerges from the computer’s innards.  She wipes a bit of dust off her face and points somewhere behind Poe.

He follows her finger, and the beam of light projecting from a lens he hadn’t noticed before, to the projection.

“Hello, Poe.”  Rather than text on a screen, the projection smiles and speaks warmly in a voice that is painfully familiar.

“Mom?” he gasps out, and can’t quite keep the quake out of his voice.  Maybe it’s because he’s half mad with exhaustion, or maybe because all of a sudden he feels like he’s eight-years-old and saying goodbye for the last time.

“How are you today?” the projection of his mother asks.

“Tired,” he answers honestly.

She smiles at him, and though it makes him happy to be able to see that smile again, his heart aches.  “It’s 0430, of course you’re tired. You need to be in bed, buddy.”

Poe blinks at her, confused, because that’s not the response he got earlier when he’d answered her question in the exact same way.  He looks back at Rey and she’s typing furiously on the keypad.

“Keep her talking,” she tells him.  “There’s some disconnected pathways, but I think I can pull it all back together.”

What can he say?  After all this time, what questions does he have?  Thousands. Over the years, he’s often thought about what advice he’d seek from the best pilot, kindest person, the person he missed most in the galaxy.  But now, he’s at a lost. And stars, he’s so tired.

“I screwed up, Ma,” he says, blinking back tears.  “People got hurt because of me.”

“I’m sure you did your best, Poe.”  She gives him another smile--motherly, understanding.  “It will be hard, the burdens you will have. I know you will always do what you think is right.”

“But how?  How do I know what’s right?”

There’s a stutter in the program.  The light shifts slightly and the image of his mother doesn’t respond.  It seems his mother never had answer for that question. It doesn’t reset however, but rather seems to wait patiently.

Rey appears next to him and Poe remembers suddenly that she’s still there.  “Ask her to tell you a story.”

Poe looks over at Rey and nods slightly.  “Can you tell me about Naboo?” he asks.

His mother grins and shakes her head.  “I know you love that story, buddy, but it’s way past time for bed.”

“Hmm,” Rey hums thoughtfully.  “I thought I fixed the time lockout, but I guess she hardwired it in.”

“I was always a brat about going to bed.”

“Yes,” his mother agrees.

“Can she hear you?” he asks Rey, then turns back towards the projection.  “Can you see my friend, Mom?”

“Oh?  Did you bring someone to meet me?  I think about this day often, about the life you will lead in the future and the people you will meet.  I know that they must be an amazing person if you’re showing them this silly VI I managed to hobble together.  You are my special boy, Poe, and you deserve all the happiness in the world.”

There’s a nervous chuckle from the both of them and Poe shoots Rey an apologetic glance.  It seems the algorithm is taking this introduction a bit different than intended. Poe doesn’t correct his mother, though, because he’s not sure if the program will just glitch out again.

“Tell her I’m glad to meet her,” Rey says, nudging him gently in the side.

“Uhh--sure.  Mom, Rey says she’s glad to meet you--”

“And I can see where you get your curly hair from.  She’s very pretty.”

There’s an unsure pause as Poe digests what Rey’s saying.  He’s caught a bit off guard, but also wondering how much sleep deprivation is hitting the both of them.  “She says I have your curls. And you are very pretty.”

There’s a laugh Poe never thought he’d hear again.  It rings as clear and true as when she was alive, somehow mismatched from the grainy quality of the projection.

“Thank you,” she says.  “I love you. Get some sleep, now.”

“Wait--Mom--”

But the program doesn’t respond and the image of his mother blinks out.  The machine whirs as it powers down. Poe rushes back to the console and tries keying in commands, but it seems the program has locked him out.

He feels a gentle hand on his shoulder and she squeezes it comfortingly.  “I told you, I couldn’t override the timers. You get five minutes if it’s activated outside what she set as normal waking hours.  You can try again in a few hours.”

“I think…”  he says slowly, glancing around at the nest of comm equipment he’ll have to put back together again.  “I think I should do what she says and get some sleep.”

Rey’s fingers trail down his arm and squeeze his fingers with firm reassurance.  “Thanks for letting me in on this.”

“Thanks for your help.”  He’s not sure what his response should be, not really.  He feels gratitude, of course, but also something else. In the morning, he’ll probably think of a much smoother line or maybe second guess how warm he suddenly feels.  The entire night has been full of ups and downs and his brain is too fried to process it correctly. So he smiles at her as she walks back out of the shed and towards the  _ Falcon _ .

“Thanks, Mom,” he says quietly.  “I miss you.”


End file.
